


When the Day Met the Night

by orphan_account



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki has long since given up artistry after a tragic mishap, but can his new college roommate convince him to gain back his courage and skill?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stars are Less Bright

_Observation isn't a sin._

_I, aspiring artist Tamaki Suoh, believe this._

_Observing the trees and how they flow in the wind is perfectly fine. Observing a couple kissing or hugging or their intimacy is the same way: it is clearly not for the horrible purposes you may assume. In fact, its beauty and secrecy please me. So much so that I will paint these scenes as I come across them. Of course, this takes a bit of skill, figuring out how exactly to come across a bed full of two sweating and pale figures, but I always make it work._

_My specific target this week was Ootori._

_My new interest was teenage love. It fascinated me. And this Ootori...he seemed to bring home a different boy every night. I wanted a new perspective on homosexuality, so I began to collect details._

_Though I would never admit it, Ootori fascinated me moreso than the others. He had a certain vibe that made me less and less eager to paint and more and more eager to be in the bed with him. I always shook off the feeling, it seemed disgusting. An artist has its canvas. It paints whatever and whoever it wants, but it can never do any more. It can never be the soul in the painting._

_It seemed Ootori was going to a party that evening. I wrote down the acquired address and time, immediately rushing off to my art studio, music room number three. The doors were heavy and made a dull sound when they clicked open and snapped into place. The still-drying portrait I had created the previous night occupied my easel._

_As I set the project aside and replaced the easel with a clean slate, there was a slight disturbance at the door. My head slowly turned towards the doors to see a slightly confused orange head. "Hikaru Hitachiin," I recognized from earlier portraits._

_"I am sure I am in the wrong room," he mumbled and turned on his heel, leaving. His hair seemed to flash bright, like a star, and I watched his hair until its last moment of glory. It was surely an element to be incorporated into my next piece._

_Upon receiving the time of the party which Ootori would be attending, I was still twenty minutes late, due to the fact that I had not yet finished my wonderful sky of tangled bedsheets with stars as bright as Hitachiin's hair. I spent my precious time trailing Ootori from a distance, watching as he downed a drink and a drink and another drink. He had his arm draped casually around a different Hitachiin, Kaoru, mostly all night. I watched as a groggy voice whispered something artistic into his ear and began dragging him towards an empty room, stumbling from all the drinking._

_I followed stealthily._

_The room was quiet, except for the faint whish of the curtains, since the windows were open on this windy evening. The room was dark, except for the less bright hair of Hitachiin Kaoru. It illuminated his one night partner's glasses, as that's where his hair met the boy._

_I watched rather hungrily as Hitachiin Kaoru was slammed to a study desk. That must have hurt. Soon the Ootori had climbed on top of him, straddling his frail body. It seemed to resemble the darkness that lurked over one's bright light. It was completely and utterly brilliant. I had worked out a rough sketch in my mind when I offered another glance to the men who now wore each other and nothing else as garments. That was when something clicked._

_I didn't like this. No, not one bit. Ootori was doing things all wrong from my experience of watching. He wasn't going for the delicate neck first, oh no. He was going for his partner's slowly growing erection._

_That's when I realized something was wrong, and that's when I realized I had feelings for the Ootori._


	2. A Dull Star Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been four years since Tamaki observed the couple he hated so. He goes off to college, and is surprised by who he encounters.

_It's been four years. Four awful, painful years of watching Ootori and Hitachiin hold hands, hug, and kiss in public. I didn't even want to imagine what happens behind the bed sheets._

_My observations dulled over time. My mind stopped grasping the colors and the effects, rather letting them fade slowly, like a river tossing stones. It would drag them further, then halt, getting caught on a sudden painting that could never be as good as my previous works, then tumbling away again, and so on. Soon they were gone, and my art supplies had been donated. Ootori had ruined me._

_So now, as I sit here studying my new dorm room, studying the two beds, studying the mysterious suitcase that lay occupying one bed, I pray to myself that this is some crude joke, that I don't really have to_ live  _with someone else._

_My dreams are crushed when a raven-haired boy steps into the room, carrying a schedule. He doesn't notice me. His glasses glint with excitement as he reviews the schedule. That light once caused me to drop everything and paint. I tried to hold my breath, to hope he wouldn't see me, and to no such luck. I sneezed, rather loudly, too. He looked up._

"Bless you," his voice interrupted my thinking.

"Thank you," I mumbled in return, setting down my suitcase on the bed opposite of his. I plopped down next to it, looking up at him. My mouth dropped open. "O-Ootori?!"

He looked at me curiously, his gaze fixing on my violet eyes. I prayed that my cheeks didn't shade themselves red. "Suoh, Tamaki Suoh," he smiled a soft smile that nearly melted my insides. He offered me a friendly hand. "I remember you from Ouran."

"How are you?" I asked him casually. He shrugged. 

"I'm okay."

I smiled a bit. He was so calm, it was a miracle. My stomach was full of butterflies as I opened my mouth to speak once more, but was interrupted by a short knock. Ootori was first to the door, since I didn't bother to get up.

"Kyo-yaaaaaaa~!" sang a voice, unmistakably Hitachiin Kaoru's, that one dull star, as Ootori was dragged into the hallway, most likely to be kissed. I didn't particularly understand why they would be so open, even in high school. The perplexity of privacy was my favorite subject, though I had never had an actual relationship.

Even ex-artists can have feelings.

"Kaoru," Kyoya breathed after a thirty-second silence. "Why aren't you at school?"

Kaoru is a grade lower than Ootori and I, and it just then occurred to me that there would be no Hitachiin around to keep me away from Ootori.

"I drove up to visit you," I could hear the grin in his voice. I groaned quietly.

"Would you like to come in?"

_No._

"I would love to!"

And that was all I stayed to hear, leaving the room, mumbling my poor excuse of going to get my class schedule, even though Ootori and Hitachiin didn't hear me. They were too busy eating each other's faces.

That's when I had a brief epiphany. Everything loses its beauty and charm once you don't look directly at it. I would search deep and hard for beauty in oneself, but now that it wasn't required of me, I chose the most bitter viewpoint of everything. What was once a graceful bee was now a wasp, searching to venomize someone. What was once a winter tree with outstretched arms was now a wicked tangle of branches, casting evil shadows upon the snow. What was once a gentle and loving kiss was now a disgusting slobby mess of tongues, flailing arms, and wretched moaning.

And all of this changed because I let it.


	3. The Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a month into the first semester. Kyoya has changed quite a bit, as well as Tamaki.

I can't take it.

Ootori is everywhere I go. Of course we have to share half the same classes. Of course we both chose to plan our schedules mainly at night. Of  _course._

I can't escape him.

It's a month into the first semester. I thought at first that I should give it some time, some space, that things would get better, but they didn't. To make matters worse, Hitachiin visited nearly every weekday, and stayed at a hotel on the weekends.

Damn him and his abundance of money to let him do so.

At first, the two would do nothing but try to swallow each other whole while I was gone, most likely leaving because I felt uncomfortable. On rare occasions did I leave to actually do something other than walk around campus. But slowly I noticed that their interests dulled, their voices and tones became more sad and quiet, and then it hit.

Hitachiin hadn't come for a week now.

Ootori sat on his bed when I walked into the room, throwing my overused laptop down on the bed. He watched me silently. I noticed his hair was not the usual 'I messed this up myself' but rather an 'I just woke up and am a nervous wreck.' I tried to hold in my comment, but it blurted out. "You okay, Ootori?"

As soon as I said it I regretted it. His gaze fixed sternly on my eyes. "Why do you ask?" he spat.

I took a step back at the harsh tone, falling down onto my bed. "J-just wondering."

He was about to hit me, I knew it as soon as he balled his fists. I closed my eyes and waited for the punch, but it never came. About ten seconds later I opened my eyes to see a silent tear trickle down his cheek. "Kaoru and I broke up," he whispered in a barely audible tone.

"I'm sorry," I heard myself mumble, but all I could sense was numbness. This must be a dream...they've been dating for so long...why did it just end?

"He said it's too hard to be so distanced..." he murmured. It had been awhile since I had felt real, true sympathy, but I was starting to feel it once more.

"How long were you together?" I asked, and immediately felt stupid. "Don't feel like you have to--"

"Three years," Ootori growled, sounding more angry than hurt now. "I wasted three years on a man--no, boy--who can't even handle a little separation."

There was such an evident transition from sadness to anger, it was almost scary, and very nerve-racking.

"That isn't what I--"

"No, don't. Thank you, Suoh. You've helped me realize something." Ootori then picked up his phone and walked out into the hall.

Oh, shit. 

What the hell did I just do?


End file.
